


Missing

by amuk



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Community: 31_days, Death, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 13:37:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuk/pseuds/amuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The girl ran ahead of him and all he could see was the red of her dress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing

**Author's Note:**

> Theme: 01. I’m totally not up to the world today

The sun was bright, almost too bright, and Allen had to shield his eyes as he entered the street. The sky was clear with barely a cloud in sight and it was an almost perfect day. It was the first he had seen in a while.

 

He shivered in the warm breeze, a cold chill crawling up his spine. The world is noisier than he remembered but in a muted way. As though he was watching the world from a distance, a tinted window that let only trickles of sound in. A bird cawing or a child screaming mix into one sound, one without any distinct features. It was loud but he didn’t know just what made it loud. It just was.

 

Pulling his hood over his head, a shield of sorts, he quickly started walking. Mechanical movements, a puppet following the whims of his master, that didn’t stop when he bumped into a little girl or crashed into her. Her hat flew into the air and he caught it out of habit.

 

“Thank you.” She took her hat back and gave him a quick curtsy.

 

(He wasn’t sure but they might be in Germany.)

 

Allen shrugged, watching her thank him again. Her big brown eyes stayed on him a moment before she scampered off.

 

Death wasn’t something new to him. He knew more about it than most, dealt with it like a new hand every day. Usually, when he got his hand, his cards pointed in his favour and it was always someone else that ended up losing someone. It wasn’t something that affected him personally but it affected him nonetheless.

 

(It was hard to ignore the restrained voices or black coffins that littered the halls, like drops of paint that no one could control. It was all too easy to notice the missing helping hand or the chattering voice, eager to be of service.)

 

It vaguely affected him usually, the smell of smoke left behind from a cigarette. He knew it but didn’t know it and all he was left was a bad taste in his mouth. The few times he did know someone, it grew worse than that but still manageable.

 

This time was different. This time it was someone he _knew_. Not a person he met for a few days, not someone who was ordered to go with him. This time it was someone who annoyed him and teased him and knew Allen for most of his short life.

 

This time it was someone special.

 

Allen’s master had always been there, ready to lead him down the path when he needed it but always too far ahead for him to grab. Sometimes, when he was lucky, Allen could grab his coattails but more often he was reaching out into empty air. He was used to that and, in a sense, even came to like their game. Even if he had to follow him for months at an end, Allen would eventually catch a glimpse of him.

 

(Never again.)

 

His master had gone somewhere even Allen couldn’t follow.

 

The girl ran ahead of him and all he could see was the red of her dress.


End file.
